


face it alone (in the heart of the winter)

by swanandapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan Secret Santa, F/M, How To Be Silent About Being Someone's Child In The Future, How To Get Back To The Future, How To Not Mess Things Up With Accidental Time Travel, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanandapirate/pseuds/swanandapirate
Summary: They’d always told her she had inherited her mother’s intelligence and her father’s wit, but when Isa Elizabeth Jones somehow accidentally ended up in the past, she felt anything but smart and far from making a clever remark about it. She needed to get back to the future as soon as possible. Oh, and preferably without her parents in the past finding out who she really was.





	face it alone (in the heart of the winter)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> My CS Secret Santa gift to ahsagitarius on Tumblr, this contains all of her favorite tropes and headcanons. 
> 
> The storyline of S7 is not mentioned in this fic, there is one small reference, but besides that this story does not contain anything to confirm or deny the events of s7. It can be seen as both canon-compliant and canon divergent. To keep it simple for this story: CS’s kid was born about two years after Zelena had baby Robin
> 
> Title taken from the oh so beautiful Glacier by James Vincent McMorrow

On December 20th of the year—well she wasn’t really sure of the year—Isa Elizabeth Jones knew she had thoroughly fucked up. She knew her parents would be livid when they found out she had thoroughly fucked up, and even more so when they discovered she was also swearing like the sailor her father was.

It was safe to say this was all a big mistake. It wasn’t her plan to end up in the past; it wasn’t even the plan to end up anywhere at all. She simply wanted to spend her time doing things that were less boring than an uptight town Christmas dinner her grandmother had organized and where everyone was making awkward small talk. So, when her cousin Robin—who wasn’t really her cousin but Isa had lost track of who was related to whom years ago, so Robin was just that— had texted her, asking if she wanted to get out of Storybrooke Hall, Isa’s reply was an all-caps yes.

After having told her dad she had forgotten something at home and after innocently smiling while he had eyed her and nodded his consent, Isa had disappeared to the location Robin had told her to meet. She recognized the place, a rooftop with a view of the clock tower, from her parents’ wedding pictures. It had brought a soft smile to her face as she could imagine them standing before her, her mom in white, Dad in all black saying _I do_ and starting a new journey, beginning their adventure of being husband and wife to eventually become a mother and father to her.

Robin had shouted to catch her attention again and had smirked as she proposed to practice their magic. Isa should’ve said no, should’ve said that they were only allowed to with their moms or aunts present but she hadn’t and her purple flash had clashed with Robin’s green shimmer and then something else she couldn’t quite discern was added, rendering the flux of magic dangerous, almost dominant and threatening in how it had swirled around them. The hairs on her arms stood erect and in a flash, a split second of distraction, she was gone.

And had ended up here.

The past.

Fuck.

-/-

One might wonder how exactly Isa knew it was the past. Storybrooke was, even in the future, a dormant town, change taking place so slowly that it hardly felt anything was indeed different. Well, the first thing that struck her as odd was that before the appearance of the ominous magic, it was evening and now it was not, the sky grey but light and the streets bustling with movement. The second thing was the people; how much they might’ve desired it, they weren’t immune to the effects of time.

The first person she had run into after she’d left the now empty rooftop and ventured onto the Storybrooke streets was Aurora, the owner of the clothing shop she frequented, and who simply walked past her as if she didn’t exist. Isa was about to turn around, to indignantly shout when she noticed her hair was not in its usual bun, flowing freely in the wind, and that she wasn’t wearing her pair of trendy designer glasses that were normally glued to her nose.

When only two minutes later the exact same thing happened but with Sneezy this time, Isa had figured it all out.

But what she was supposed to next was still a big mystery.

A shiver ran up her arms, the dark green dress a perfect match to her eyes but not to the December cold.

Isa gravitated, furiously rubbing her hands over the bare skin to create some kind of heat inducing friction, towards the warmest spot she knew, both actual heat and the kindness and spirit of the place frequenting it: Granny’s.

The bell chimed as she hesitantly opened the door. She’d done it a million times before but now she could not predict what would lie beyond it, what faces would greet her and how they would look at her.

In contrary to what she expected, Granny’s’ patrons seemed undisturbed by her entrance, still vividly conversing and enjoying their food, not even granting her a glance. Eyes cast downwards, Isa searched an empty spot, a corner where no one could question who she was or why she was wearing almost no clothes in the heart of winter.

It didn’t stop someone from approaching, the footsteps growing in sound as she shrunk more into her seat.

“Are you okay?” the person said, the voice so familiar that Isa couldn’t help herself from looking up.

The pixie cut was still pitch black, not a trace of silver streaks. They had the same eyes, the same green, hazel irises all of the women of their family had. Those were the eyes staring at her but they lacked the soft crinkles around the edges Isa had grown used to.

Her grandmother was supposed to be young but not  _this_  young.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you,” was her answer to wave away any concerns and any mandatory conversations. It was better not to risk anything.

“You look a bit cold, that’s all,” Snow attempted again and Isa knew she would persist. It was Snow White she was talking about, that is.

“A little bit,” she admitted, her eyes slowly daring to meet her grandmother’s again. “I forgot my coat at home and I can’t go and get it.”

“Well, sweetie, if you want I can give you one of mine? Ever since my son was born, I keep a spare one in the car, it doesn’t take a lot of being spit upon to learn.”

Did that mean that Neal was still a baby? That would be inexplicably weird. Neal was her fun uncle that was allowed to do more stuff than her fifteen-year-old-self was and who took her on adventures and now he was just a baby—a puking one to be exact.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Snow continued to talk, misinterpreting Isa’s musing silence as hesitance. “The pullover is clean, Neal has outgrown the stage of randomly puking, thank god.”

The bright eyes continued to stare at her, patiently waiting for an affirmative nod to appear so Snow could be set into motion to go retrieve the pullover. It was giving her nerves, because Isa knew what she wanted to reply and she knew what her grandmother wanted her to reply, but she also shouldn’t reply that exact thing because it would lead to involvement and more questions and she hadn’t even figured out in what year she was or why she ended up here.

Ugh. Being stuck in the past was all very inconvenient.

Pinching her hands together, Isa worriedly nibbled on her lower lip, her tongue immediately soothing the small dents in the flesh. She needed to give an answer now.

“That would be great.”

Snow immediately smiled and put her hand on Isa’s bare shoulder. She gently squeezed, another warm gesture towards someone who, even if they shared the same genes, was a complete stranger to her.

“I’ll be right back,” Snow reassured before walking away, turning towards Granny and telling her something Isa couldn’t understand, but Granny did as she resolutely nodded. The bell announced that her grandmother had left and it took only one worrying minute before a steaming cup of hot chocolate was set in front of her by Granny herself, the elderly lady smiling as she watched Isa’s eyes widen at the sight of the cup.

“Enjoy it, girl,” she said, peering down through the half-moon glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “On the house. I like people who can appreciate a cup of hot chocolate.”

Isa could, believe her. She was her mother’s daughter, after all.

She dared to take a first hesitant sip from the mug but the beverage was still too hot, sending pain through the tip of her tongue and as she gave her tongue the time to recover, Snow walked back in, a grey pullover in her hands.

“Here you go,” she presented the piece of clothing with pride. Isa accepted it, not having any choice but to, and let the fabric slide along her arms as she put it on. She brushed her dark locks away in order for them to land on the collar of the sweater.

Snow went to sit across from her, a determined air about her and Isa knew it meant trouble. Time for her poker face. She was lucky her grandmother didn’t have the same superpower as her mother did or she’d be royally screwed.

“I haven’t seen you around town before,” Snow stated, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting as if she was assessing Isa’s whole being in addition to her presence at Granny’s.

“I’m just visiting,” she replied. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug that hopefully conveyed some sort of innocence.

“Alone?”

This was the question she was dreading. She couldn’t exactly tell her that she was indeed alone but that her family was both here and in the future, but they simply didn’t know yet now.

“Umm, so… If we’re being technical, then yes, I came here alone,” Isa admitted. “If we’re not, then… I still came here alone. But I’m in search of some people and finding them would not make me alone anymore, so that would solve my problem.”

After that very terrible answer, Isa decided to take a sip of her cooled down hot chocolate, hiding behind the mug and mountain of whipped cream. She had no way of anticipating what her grandmother would reply, so it was an anxious wait for some kind of reaction—a laugh, a scoff, anything would be better than this stretching silence.

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s your lucky day. My family is experts in finding people. If you want, we can go to the sheriff’s station and start your search there.”

The sheriff’s station would be a bad place to start her research because one: her problem was created with magic so there should be a magical solution as well and she wouldn’t find that at the station, the vault at the graveyard was a more valuable starting point. And two: there were two people who she would most likely run into and Isa would love to avoid that particular encounter.

-/-

As Snow showed her all of the Storybrooke sights, pointing at certain buildings and providing Isa with backstories, she could do nothing but nod. She knew all of the stories, what every building’s use was. She’d grown up here, ran along the streets while racing her Dad, fell on the concrete as her mom was teaching her to ride a bike. This was her town and yet it wasn’t.

“Here we are.”

They stopped in front of the familiar building and Isa hugged herself in both an attempt to get warmer and to prepare herself for what would take place.

“My husband and daughter are the sheriffs here so I’m certain they’ll be able to help,” Snow granted some reassurance, seeing the nerves in Isa’s posture.

Opening the door, Snow extended her hand, letting Isa lead the way. Politely, she smiled in gratitude, doing her best to not let the smile transform into a grimace.

“Emma? David? Are you here?” Snow yelled as they walked towards the office. Isa closed her eyes and wished that no answer would sound through the hallway, that it would stay quiet and they would have to return without any progress.

“I’m here, Mom,” was the reply.

Isa flinched but still continued to approach the source of the voice, her grandmother following closely.

And there she was. Mom.

She closed a file, her golden hair swishing as she turned on the chair to face them.

“Hey,” Emma said and smiled, an aura of light surrounding her. Her eyes curiously darted towards Isa, who was avoiding them with might and main.

“Hi, Emma.” Snow smiled back and looked back to Isa. “This is my daughter Emma. Emma, this is …” she halted as she realized she had no idea what Isa was called.

Isa couldn’t tell them her real name. There were too many risks tied to that. But in the stress of the situation, the adjusting her brain had to do, it couldn’t come up with a name. Every name she’d ever heard vanished from her mind and the only thing she could remember was hers: Isa Elizabeth Jones.

She needed to say something, this silence was becoming way too long and suspicious, Snow’s hand still hanging in the air as she gestured towards Isa.

“E- Elizabeth,” she stammered, hoping that it didn’t come out as uncertain as she felt.

“Elizabeth,” Snow finally finished her sentence. “Elizabeth is in search of some people but she hasn’t found them yet and I thought you might be able to help.”

“Is that so?” Emma questioned, a strange tone to her voice that surprised Isa, making her accidentally meet her mother’s eyes.

She stared and stared, she couldn’t seem to be able to pull her gaze away. It wasn’t that her mom had changed a lot over this past decade—an estimate on Isa’s part—nothing more than her blonde hair still being long instead of the short hairdo she had in the future and the other small things she’d noticed while looking at her grandmother. It was simply her whole being. It was as if there was a whole other air to her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” her mom said and for a second, Isa wanted her to really know what she was thinking. That her superpower was more than just spotting lies, that her magic extended further than the Savior's power. Emma couldn’t know what she was thinking.  “It’s weird that my mom and I look the same age, but that’s a really long story.” An apologetic smile and shrug followed, telling Isa Emma wouldn’t tell the story and she was just supposed to accept that fact of life.

Understandable, you couldn’t tell a stranger about curses and magic and a fairytale land.

“That’s fine.”

She already knew all of it.

“I need to go get Neal,” Snow announced, her watch revealed by pushing the white sleeve of her shirt out of the way. “Emma, could you try and help Elizabeth?”

“Sure, Mom. Could I have a quick moment with you before you go?” Out of the corner of her eye, Emma subtly stared at Isa, but Isa knew her mom. She wanted to discuss her presence without her presence.

“Can I go to the bathroom, please?” Isa was giving them an out, an excuse to talk about her without having to send her away. She’d rather not know what they would discuss.

“Sure, sweetie. It’s right in the hallway.”

She could feel them waiting until she’d left the room before beginning to talk and it brought an unsettling feeling to her stomach.

Isa sat down on the closed toilet seat, running her hands through her hair, combing the brown locks to distract herself from the situation. It was a nervous tic she had; it was like how her dad scratched the back of his head when he felt embarrassed or stressed, she’d inherited that too.

After what she felt was a respectable amount of time spent on the toilet, Isa stood up, unlocking the door with one click and straightening her dress. Her lungs expanded as she inhaled, a feeble attempt to prepare herself for the conversation to follow.

The office was empty when she walked towards it, but after scanning the rest of the room, Isa saw her mother sitting on the couch that stood against the wall, a Pop Tart and a can of soda on the table in front of her. Isa could see through the supposed act of kindness, through the soft smile on Emma’s lips. It was a way to gain her trust, to let her acclimatize to the strange setting. It was a subtle approach to bribe her for information so Emma herself could trust this strange girl sitting in her office. She couldn’t hold it against her mom, however. She was impressed, even. It would’ve worked with any other kid, food was always the way to go, but Isa knew too much, had too much to protect to fall for it.

Shit, she was in charge of the future. That seemed like a very unwise responsibility for a fifteen-year-old to have.

She sat down on the opposite side of the couch, leaving enough space between the both of them, and stared at her hands curling around her knees. In the background, she could see the Pop Tart and soda moving on the table, being pushed closer to her for easier access.

Some food wouldn’t be so bad, to be honest. Her last meal was the appetizers at the Christmas dinner and that was a couple of hours ago. And a couple of years in the future even though that was actually in the past for her. Wow, timelines were confusing. Maybe the traveling back counted as more hours, did time traveling magic have that effect? She’d probably be hungrier if it did because a more than a decade was a long time. Giving up on attempting to understand, she grabbed the Pop Tart and took a bite.

“So…” Emma began speaking, “You wanna tell me who exactly it is you’re looking for?”

Like she expected. Bribe.

But it was working. Isa felt guilty about giving her mother the silence treatment after having received provision. Lying wasn’t an option either because her mother had a freaking superpower that not only ruined all of Isa’s sneaking out but also her valiant attempt of preserving the future.

Man, she just loved her life.

Swallowing the last bit of strawberry, Isa licked her lips and decided to tell the truth but also to be vague enough about it.

“Let’s say that I’m looking for my parents.”

“And that’s the truth?” Emma questioned, her blonde eyebrows rising.

“Yup.” Isa’s lips plopped as she answered.

Something seemed to shift in her mother’s conduct, moving from wary to understanding, her eyes softening and shoulders losing their tension.

“I know how it feels.” she said quietly, “You know, I was an orphan too. Abandoned on the side of the road and I searched so long for my parents. All orphans do it, thinking their parents must’ve had a good reason for abandoning them, that maybe it was all a misunderstanding.”

Isa couldn’t hear more. Her parents hadn’t abandoned her. They were probably madly searching for her after she’d disappeared. She’d left her parents who both had both been abandoned by the people who they loved most and had lost their loved ones. All because she was bored at dinner.

“I’m not an orphan!” she yelled, the emotions overcoming her and causing an outburst that interrupted the story.  Her mother had a shocked expression about her and Isa immediately felt guilty. She was only trying to help, trying to soothe a lonely child by baring her own troubled past. “Look, I’m sorry,” Isa apologized, having regained her grip on her temper but the tears gathering in the edges of her eyes nonetheless. “I know who my parents are, I just don’t know how to get back to them.”

And she needed to. As quickly as possible.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Her mother moved closer, gently rubbing Isa’s shoulder in a soothing gesture.

Her hands were fiddling with the hem of the grey cardigan that smelled exactly like her grandmother did.

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head and the motion caused a tear to fall down that she immediately wiped away again. “I truly appreciate what you and Gra- your mother have already done.”

She furiously rubbed her eyes, trying to chase away the tears and to find her strength again. She could do this. She was the daughter of Captain Hook and the Savior, for god’s sake.  She was born with perseverance and resilience, she was brought up with love and wisdom. This was her moment to show her parents they deserved to be proud of her. This was her moment to show she was part of her family of heroes.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“No.” Her head moved from left to right another time. “But I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Perseverance and resilience.

Her mother didn’t agree with that apparently.

“Elizabeth, it’s winter and dark. You’re not going to stay outside,” she said, her words final and not to be contradicted. Exactly how her future self would announce Isa was punished for doing something she wasn’t allowed to. “Look, you seem like a really great kid and I think your parents must miss you a lot so I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find them. Right now, though, my priority is getting you somewhere warm and safe, getting you some warmer clothes and giving you a place to sleep.”

She silently challenged Isa to disagree but how on earth could she be against any of those things? Warmth, sleep, food, those were all positive words in Isa’s dictionary. She nodded, a strand of hair falling in front of her eyes. Her fingers caught it and brushed it behind her ear.

“Would you be alright with coming home with me tonight? There’s room enough in my house. You can pick a room, take a shower, eat something warm.”

She could sleep in a familiar place, in her home, with the people she loved the most near her. Even if she didn’t have  _her_  parents, at least she had some version of them. She could rest and then go in search of a solution with a fresh mind. In the end, the joint power of the pros outweighed the one big con (WHAT IF SHE ACCIDENTALLY TOLD THEM WHO SHE WAS)

“That sounds great,” she said honestly.

“Perfect.” Emma stood up and grabbed her coat, extinguishing the lights in the station as she locked everything to prepare for her departure.  “I think you’re going to like my husband Killian. You remind me a bit of him.”

Well, fuck.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Poor, poor Isa. Part two is (hopefully) coming soon and involves lots of family fluff, lots of Isa worrying about the future and lots of swearing (because how would you be in such a situation) Perhaps someone might figure her secret out, oooooh.


End file.
